


My slave-girl's diary

by She_Elf_Xantusia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Original Work
Genre: Angst, BDSM, D/s, F/M, Never forget to mention angst, Plot, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Punching, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:15:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6569449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_Elf_Xantusia/pseuds/She_Elf_Xantusia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Happens in a kind of post-apocalyptic world.*</p>
<p>A group of idiots got to rule the Earth, and decided that women do not deserve any rights, not even a bit of freedom and must be enslaved within one. Many men and women have fought, but it only led to a big (but quick) war. Millions have died and it changed nothing.</p>
<p>This story is told by a normal man, who doesn't support the new government, but he doesn't fight it neither. He bought a cheap slave-girl, who would be killed otherwise, because she broke down and is impossible to be trained.<br/>Now he is trying to find a way to her, but also have some fun.</p>
<p>(Nobody told me writing summary is so hard :/ simply, this story is about: slaves + plot + porn + mental issues + bad memories + post-rape + rape + D/s + BDSM)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not from an English speaking country, so please don't throw stones at me for some mistakes.

Today is the day. She is coming... No, not she. I should be saying  _it_... Well, screw this. She is supposed to be my fucktoy and I'm not gonna fuck some _it_. _It_ can be a dog, or even a baby. No, I'm gonna call her  _she_ , because I'm only interested in women. It can't be illegal, can it?

*ding*

Damnit, I can't do this! If someone notices I don't like this _Decret of_ (so-called and damned) _natural justice_... No! It's not gonna happen. I _am_  gonna be a slaver and act like that. I always liked this kind of things, so I will not look like trying to circumvent the law... Yeah, I can be an actor, so I'm gonna look like my whole-life-dream is coming true.

*ding, ding*

"Shut up! I'm on my way!" I shouted towards the door, trying to sound butch... and probably failing miserably.

Finally I opened and let the deliveryman with a unusually small box come in. Yeah, boxes. If I should tell the biggest cliche of this "new world", I'd name boxes.  
They deliver the slaves in boxes to humiliate them more, but it only looks silly and childish. They used to deliver them naked, but travelling by a plane naked in the cargo area appeared to be dangerous and nobody wanted to get his slave dead or sick with pneumonia.

"Are you Bill Brown?" asked the deliveryman, annoyed by being let waiting. After my approval answer he asked me serval more questions. I mostly just nodded, not really listening and wandering in my thoughts.

She is sent from Czech republic. That can be eleven hours of flight. Eleven hours in a box. Isn't she claustrophobic? ... A short memory flashed in my mind.

> _Phobia(s) and fears: spiders, snakes, heights, drowning, asphyxiation, strangling, molds, fungi, open spaces (agoraphobia), men, naked men, erection, sexual references, tall people._
> 
> _Weakness (topics):  ..._
> 
> Stop! I need a break! ... I began to massage my temples. The girl... who is she? That's not normal. They had to do something to her, hurt her somehow.. Little wonder why she can't be trained, especially by them.

There, somewhere there, it was mentioned - her family couldn't afford to ransom her from the government (she is sixteen, the price had to be enormous). But the profile says she is virgin and nobody touched her before... _Liars!_ This list of phobias can't be so long with no reason.

"Should I open the box for you now, sir?" the deliveryman asked, probably trying to sound polite.

"Yeah," I nodded and took a step aside. I also presented my best Loki-like smirk for a second.

He opened it the most non-ceremonial way and literally dumper her out. She stayed on the floor curled up, subtly testing her limbs.

"Behave, you dirty slut," the man hit her promptly, he was probably afraid I will complain and ask my money back as soon as I notice she is only worth a worn-out slipper. "Get on your knees!"

She obeyed immediately, but fell back right away, her legs too weak to support this position.

"Thanks you for delivering my property in order, it was a pleasant trade with you. Now you can leave, I will handle this," I gave him a  _you-can-imagine-what-will-be-happening--you-can-only-envy_ wink and pushed him out of my house, pretending I'm hurrying to get her under control myself.

When I turned back to her, she was again trying to kneel, but after few more attempts and fails she got along with simply sitting on her heels and bowing her head. I felt myself harden. Thinking of all the things I could force her to... _No_ , not the right time. If ever, it's definitely not happening right now. I don't want to break her even more. But I'm not going to hold in wholly.

"So," I began, "I was told you underwent some training.."

Her voice was quiet. "Only basics, Sir."

She was afraid. Not until now I noticed she was trembling. As I took one step towards her and it increased in hard shaking. What to do now? I felt lost for a moment. I didn't expect it so bad.

> _Training conclusion: The subject is stubborn, proud and disdains the authorities. _ It _seems to remember the rules completely, but only uses them in_ its _advantage and to mock us._ It _doesn't mind being whipped, if_ its _joke, dis-loyalty or mocking is "worth it"._ It _seems to either not mind pain, or be dumb enough to receive it oftenly for nothing.  I personally think_ it _should be killed now. Nobody will buy it, so there is no reason to feed it for months._
> 
> All right, break! I mean- This world is a shitty place now. Like- What the hell? They want to kill a girl just because she didn't break down after two weeks of training? Just... oh God, I'm not gonna buy anyone!

Yes, that was the first time I read about her. Two months before I started even _thinking_ of buying someone again. Now, this isn't proud or stubborn person. They hurt her and it had to happen between the training and me seeing her profile second time. They probably raped her, just like that, not caring about her fate if she loses the last valued thing on herself - virginity. I could sue them, but it would do nothing and she would be killed... Yep, I hate this world. But on the other side, I've  _dreamed_ of having a slave!

"Well, from the beginning you should know that I do  _not_  agree with the current order in the world. But I don't fight it either, I just accepted it. I  _will_ train you and will not hesitate to punish you for breaking the rules. However I will try not to do anything you really don't want."  
She looked like someone, who jumped to a pool of hope, that appeared to be only a puddle - desperately trying to get the most of it possible, but also backing away to prevent disappointment.  
"That means I will not sleep with you until I find you ready. I don't want to be a rapist." In the end it was hard to act strict. The little arousal washed away and only thing I felt about her was regrets. Something in me was telling me I should join the light side and fight against the government, but I know I would change nothing.

I took a big step towards her, she was now kneeling almost at my feet. I lowered my voice as if someone else could be listening and said: "I will not hurt you, little one. I'd never hurt you, if it wasn't for the good of both of us."

For a little while she hesitated, probably translating it for herself all over again. When she was sure she understood well, she let herself fall into a begging position (forehead touching the floor, hands clasped together behind her back) and she said with a broken voice, tears audible: "Thank you, Sir. Please... I-... Thanks you.."

I waited till she muffled her crying to try something. "Look at me," I said smoothly.

She guardedly did so. At first she looked quite curious (it was first time she saw me). Then, however, there was fear in her eyes. Like a hunted deer.  _What did I do?_ I asked myself. New tears fell off her face.

"You are Bill," she remarked.  _Did she hear it?_   "You cos-play Loki from Marvel movies."  _Oh no. Oh no no no no no._

"You... You know me. Are you- Are you- Did you know me before?"

"Yes," she bowed her head again, "I was a fan of yours. Well, not really a fan, but I was following you on your page and... Oh God, why?"

Shit! This changes- This changes nothing at all, but it's fuckin' weird. I should have predicted it, though.

> _Hobbies: ..._
> 
> _Interests:  fantasy, astrophysics, sci-fi, nature, medicine, poetry, cos-play, LARP_
> 
> _Favourite films, boooks, series, etc.: Stargate, **Marvel Universum** , Eragon (books), Paranormalcy (books)_
> 
> Why do they even write it there? This- This is absurd! Do they expect me to take advantage of it, or to have a nice chit-chat while raping her? Now, the laws of today's make even less sense.

I took a deep breath and calmed down all thoughts. I'll have enough time to think about it later. "Come," I ordered and headed to her room. I could hear her stumbling behind me slowly. I could tell her to go faster, but why would I do it? I saw many times in public men punishing their slaves for not doing impossible things. She is wobbly, if I'd order her to speed up, she would fall. There is no other scenario for this situation. If I know she will fail, I shouldn't use it against her just on purpose to get some reason for punishing her.

Now I sound like a good slaver! I'm almost proud of myself. I can be responsible for not only me, but also for my property... Nah, it still sounds strange and wrong. Dang it!

"Here," I opened the door to a not-really-small room, "this is your room. You will stay here in your free time, if I don't tell you otherwise."

Looking around she was puzzled. She undoubtedly expected to be locked down in a dark cellar, not anything this big. It was the smallest room in the house, but there was no furniture, only a mattress in the corner and a clock on the wall. The empty space may make her feel uncomfortable (judging by the list of phobias of her), but it will have to do.

There is a law that forbids to let your slave have own bed, or any things of her own generally. Her clothes have to be somewhere else, so she isn't free to change when she wants, and the rest... well, there shouldn't even be any "rest".

> The moron who suggested this laws said: "The things - which we used to call 'women' - must realise that for us - their masters - they are nothing more than another furniture, a carpet or a toy. Their only duty is to obey and do their best for us. Not to think, not to fight for themselves, not to be someone. Just to be good for us."

"So, you have ten minutes to have a shower once a day, only in your free time, of course. Bathroom and toilet are there," I pointed in appropriate direction, "you are not allowed to the rooms there and there," garage and kitchen (lots of knives - not good place for anyone), "don't leave your room, if there is someone else but me. That's all for now, you are dismissed till 8 PM. Everything clear?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered immediately.

With nothing else to say I left her alone and went to the living room to watch TV.

After a hour she silently went to the bathroom and was there for exactly nine minutes. There was an oppressive silence in the house then. For a little while I was afraid I didn't lock all the cabinets in the bathroom and she's found some razor blade and killed herself. It wouldn't surprise me at all. But as I checked all the drawers there, nothing was missing. Maybe she just was quiet. I don't know why did I expect her to... actually, what did I expect? That she will break down crying? Or that she will scream for help? Or that she will keep punching walls until her knuckles bleed? No, she is alright.

 

I got back to watch TV some more, but I was wandering, what is she doing. It's only quarter past seven... _Screw it, I'm the master, I don't need a reason to go and see my slave!_

I got up and noiselessly went to her room. I opened the door and peeped in.  _Impossible..._ She is.. She is sleeping..

If there is something I really didn't believe will happen, this was it. _Does she trust me enough to fall asleep just like that?_  But then I got cheerless, better explanation - she was just too tired not to sleep and maybe... maybe she doesn't care about safeness anymore. It would make sense.

I carefully closed the door again and got back to the TV. _No, it won't be that easy, but we will do. I will not let her fail and be killed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go - strange and senseless first chapter. There are probably dozens typing-errors, sorry about that. Hope you still liked it. :)


	2. Lesson one

It's eight o'clock in two minutes... If she doesn't wake up now, she will be asleep as I come to her and I will have to punish her. That will cause that she will be afraid to sleep further. _I shouldn't be so much merciful..._  With this thought I picked up a fire iron and instantly let it fall on the paved floor. A clangorous sound broke the silence like a gunshot in a forest. If this didn't wake her up, it's not my fault.

I walked to her room. She was awake, sitting in a corner and shaking violently, but as she saw me, she tried to calm down, to look composed and strong. She also showed something, that could be called warning face, but it didn't look really terrifying. Maybe she is stronger than we know..?

"Get up," I commanded.

For a second I thought she will put up a fight for this nothing, but then she hesitantly stood up.

"Strip." ... This was shock for us both. I didn't think forward, everything was quite spontaneous. "You _can_ keep your panties on." (I know they say slaves should not wear under-wear at all, but it's my damn slave, my damn rules.)

She, again, hesitated for a second, but then slowly complied. With nothing to hide it I could see how tense she was. Shaking with fear (probably) and with every muscle alerted, ready to run away. It was also easier to see how bad was she treatened last few months - skinny, with nearly no 'woman-shapes' remaining (thanks to starving periods), scars and scratches and worrying paleness.

I have to get her to eat more... I also should take her outside, sun would help, but that's not happening until I'm sure she won't: 1. try to run, 2. get into trouble, 3. insult someone, 4. insult the government, 5. get us both killed.

I noticed I'm still staring and blushed a bit, but screw it, it's my _slave_. I can stare how much I want to.

"Come."

This _say-it-shortly-because-a-slave-doesn't-deserve-a-full-sentence_ rule is beginning to bore me. I've read a lot of books about slave-training, this rule (or tip) was in every of them in chapter I personally call "The list of cliches".

I took her to the living room and did something I was practically looking for the most - pointed to a corner and said: "Kneel."

She obediently did as told.

With simple "Wait there." I went to the kitchen to get something to eat. By now, my stomach was almost aching - I didn't eat much because of the restlessness and the nervousness itself was nauseous, too.

 _So what food would be good for my intents?_ Emm... umm... _Damn, I don't know!_

Finally, after a looooong thinking, I picked up two bowls of cereals with milk and one spoon... _That's gonna be fun._ I took some handcuffs from my room, too.

While I was comfortably sprawled on the couch I put one of the bowls on the floor. She (By the way, shouldn't I call her by name?) was wise enough not to turn around and look what it is and kept her gaze down.

"Come here."

She was standing up and that brought me a better idea. "Crawl."

She  _snorted!_ Ok, that's not justifiable. "Behave. It's five for now," I said with no explaining. Judging by her look she got it although and completed.

Kneeling by my feet she was staring daggers to the floor. _Poor floor._  Apparently she adapted a bit (Was I _too_ merciful?), because this would be unthinkable in the... wherever the slaves are kept before being bought.

"Turn around." While putting the handcuffs on, I could see her shaking. It had nothing to do with her being almost naked, it's not so cold in there. But when her arms were bound behind her back, it almost looked as if she was less tense. Maybe because being cuffed means being forced - that makes everything easier. Maybe she was one of these rare cases, when the profile didn't lie...

 

 

> **Basics:**  
>      Nature: ~~Dominant~~ /submissive/ ~~both~~ / ~~none~~  
>  _ Pain acceptance: _masochistic/ ~~low acceptance~~ / ~~disfavour~~  
>  Training difficulty: ~~easy~~ / ~~difficult~~ / ~~more than difficult~~ /nearly impossible  
>     ...
> 
> _What the hell do they mean by this? This is a basic information about every human now? If you are sadistic, if you like it hard, or if you can be trained?_

It was the first time I saw her profile and I just wasn't used to reading this kind of profiles.

Curiously I patted her hair in prise for obedience. Her reaction was a light full-body shiver. Unfortunately I'm not any Christian Grey, so I have no idea if it was  _this-disgust-me-so-badly_ , or  _dear-god-please-make-it-stop_ , or  _hmm-this-was-actually-quite-comfortable_ , or  _I-love-being-humiliated_ kind of shiver. I didn't ask her, though, I'm not sure if she would appreciate my interest in her feelings.

_Let's get this done finally.._

"Now, turn back." As she did so I pointed to the bowl on the floor. "Now you can eat.." I expectantly waited for her reaction and _oh,_ she gave me one.

She lifted her gaze, one eyebrow risen, face disbelieving. Suddenly she looked like this all was some kind of a game for her and it just started to bore her... "Seriously?"

For a slightest moment I felt stupid for it, but  _no_. No, for today enough rationalism, enough undue humanity, enough normal-world behaviour. I'm tired, hungry and I saved her life, I  _can_ have this fun. I thought about it so many times, I'm not gonna rethink it again, my statement is clear! (And it's also my duty to teach her her position in todays society. If she doesn't get used to it, someone will notice and kill us both for rebellion.)

"Yeah, seriously. Twenty-five, now."

Again it took her few seconds to realise what I mean, but than she gave me one last scowl and bent cautiously to the bowl.

"Twenty-seven."

"Why?!" she snapped back, not aggressively, but not kindly either.

"Twenty-nine..." I gave her time to realise the mistake and than specified: "Didn't anybody teach you to thank for food? And didn't they teach you to be quiet if not asked to talk?"

"Sorry, Sir," she bowed her head, but it was clear to me that she does so because se knows better than to show me her actual grimace (murdering me by her gaze only).

"All right, try again."

She hesitated and spent some time choosing her words carefully. "Thanks you for the food, my lord. Can I, please, eat it now?"

"Yes," I did my best to push my wide grin away.

"Enjoy your meal, then, Sir," she added and bowed over the bowl once more. For a second she stayed waiting, expecting another punishment for god-knows-which reason. I didn't say anything so she slowly began to eat.

Luckily for her, I didn't put much milk in it so it was ways easier to empty the bowl. She ate it as fastly as possible in her position, probably a habit from the slave-trade. (They probably don't have much time to eat, nor do they have much food at all.)

She silently waited with her head bowed till I finished eating, too.

I let her kneeling by the sofa while I went to put the bowls back to the kitchen and took a riding crop (almost a necessity in every house).

"Bend over the arm-chair," I pointed (with the crop in my hand) to one.

When she looked up to see where exactly should she go, her eyes widened in shock. She looked askingly at me, than unsurely at the crop and back to me.

"Thirty? Or more?" I asked her to remind her to move.

She walked swiftly and then hesitantly bent over and braced herself. She was probably sending thanks to all the gods ever existed for the little peace of cloth covering her.

"So thirty... You will count, aloud and clearly," I warned. She gave a little nod and straightened her back bravely.

I didn't put much force in the first blow, but it couldn't be called tickling either. She hissed, but said _one_  immediately. I kept increasing the strength with each blow till a silent cry escaped her. (It was the twelfth hit.) I din't add extra hits when she didn't count right away, because this is a stupid rule. Instead I waited till she was able to say it and then resumed.

When it was over, her legs were trembling a bit, her thighs red (hitting her covered ass wouldn't be useful, would it?). She, however, didn't seem to have problem walking to me and kneeling. Once more I patted her head. I could see few not-well-enough covered tears on her face, but she was again trying to act proud and strong and hid all her "weakness". (It's not weakness, she was strong and didn't ask me to stop, didn't even look like she wished for me to stop.)

"So, what did you learn now?" (I know it's just this kind of cliche I don't like, but sometimes I want to be the real DramaQueen.)

"That you accept the new world order, you _will_ train me and _will not_ hesitate to punish me..." she said slowly and quietly. I wanted to prise her for remembering what I said, but she wasn't done yet. "But that you will not be the cruel tyrant I expected to buy me. That you are just a regular and - well, _chytrý, moudrý, inteligentní_ \- clear-headed master, not a rapist, not a bully(?) - _ne násilník_ \- and not a devilish creature of hell like the traders are. ... It's- I'm- _Jsem docela ráda, že jste mě koupil zrovna vy._ "

For almost a minute silence filled the room. "Good, you learn fast. ... Tell me - what are these words I did not understand?" I asked curiously.

She fought a grin and answered: "If I'm talking spo- sponta-ne-ously, it's sometimes hard to remember the right English words.. And even harder to say them, as you heard.. It's also difficult to find the most matching word, because for some thing you can call by a dozen of names, we have only one, and some thing I can name by at least twenty Czech words have only one (or none) name in English. ... I hope my strange speaking doesn't bother you, Sir."

 _She definitely_ is _more clever than I though. Or at least this sounded quite clever._  "No." The simplest answer. "You are dismissed till eight o'clock morning. Now go."

And she left.

 

_Wow... What. The hell. Was. That?_

_Did I really did all of this and felt no shame?_

_Sounds right... but wrong..._

_I should stop thinking. Seriously, stop thinking, Bill!_

_I'm just a young man in a screwed-up world who is being responsible for (but also having some fun with) his slave._

_That's all._

_Nothing of this can be called "wrong", cause the powerful people decided it's right._

_Not my business._

_Yeah._

_Right..._

_Stop thinking, motherf*cker! (Did I just cenzore my thoughts?)_

_I'm doing a good thing... (enslaving the girl...)_

_Yeah..._

_Right.._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for different lenghts of the chapters - writing in English is harder than I thought, so it's hard to control this factor. But it's a diary, you don't write everything the same lenght here, right? :D
> 
> Yup, and I'm not really sure if it is "sneer" or "snort" what I ment, but you will get it, won't you? :D Just some kind of mocking, I guess..?
> 
> Thanks for reading! ^^


	3. Purr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little explaining:  
> ... meas that the document (film, song, poem, conversation...) continued, but Bill stopped reading (watching, listening...)  
> (...) means that the document (film, song, poem, conversation...) continued, but I was too lazy to write it
> 
>  *******  
>  A really close friend of mine has told me that my English is terrible... It hurt my feelings and kicked my ego down, so now I can ask - beta-read anyone for me, please? :D

Morning. That means she is sleeping, right? Should I wake her up as yesterday?

There still is a possibility that she will be afraid to go to sleep if I punish her for slow waking up at morning.. If I walk in and she is sleeping, I'll have to tell her to get up. The chance that she will be able to comply in the small amount of time... nope, impossible. If she is sleeping, she will not be able to get up in five seconds and I'll have to punish her - for sleeping, for feeling _safe enough_ to sleep..

But damn it, it's 8 o'clock! If she isn't up, it's not my problem. And aaargh, why do I even care?! I worry too much over nothings! I should rather worry about the first Fertility checkup... Nah, I just ruined my day. _Brilliant, Bill, truly brilliant!_

Ok, maybe it _is_ good to care about her waking up, because if she doesn't sleep enought, it could finish her fragile, skinny, unhealthy body off. Yeah, that sounds like a reason. But still - I worry too much.

I finaly decided to do nothing and just walk in. _She is your danm slave!_ Slave _, you idiot!_

And of course, I  _am_ an idiot... As I walked in, she was fully awake... 'Cause she's slept for 9 hours.  _Idiot_..

"Come," I simply ordered and she instantly stood up and folowed me out off the room. She was probably happy that she can leave the big empty space she hated. Let's see if she will be happy in few minutes, too.

 

> I was just reading the training conclusion (or how is it officially called) again. I've bought her already, but I was impatient waiting for all the contracts to be validated and of course - for her to be shipped from wherever she was "stored".
> 
> I can't say if I was reading it, because I was bored, or because it was arousing, or because it was worrying, or because I was planning... I just was.
> 
> And I was purposefully looking at this part, because I've read an interesting article in some newspapers. They sayed how this works, this forteen-days-long training every slave gets, even if there is nobody who pays it.
> 
> They also sayed how this (the list of things the new owner should or shouldn't attempt to train the slave at) is being found out - they have a list of possible activities the slavers all over the world require and they are trying to figure out if the particular slave is good at doing it... The list is about forty activities long and they have to try every one of them in just four hours... It sounds pretty impossible to me and it really is. That's the reason why there are "Unclassified".
> 
> _Supposedly skilled at: gardening, homework, ironing, knitting (crocheting etc.), needlework (...)_
> 
> _Not skilled at: cooking, pet-play, pony-play, pup-play, striptease (...)_
> 
> _Unclassified: ..._
> 
> Hmm., how did they find out she is not good at cooking? Is it because she just is not, or because she tried to poison them? And crocheting? Who the hell cares about something like this? (Well, the ones who wants their slave-girl to have babies and create cute fluffy little pea costumes.)
> 
> Pony-play, pup-play... this si common - lots of men want their slaves to stop thinking and just be. Pup-play is ideal for that, because a puppy doesn't care about anything. It's wierd... Oh no, I'm not considering it, am I? Oh no...

And here we are! I took her to the kitchen (she waited for my _permission_ and that's fuckin' cool!). The breakfast was on the table yet - grits and a lot of fruit.

I sat down and she knelt by my feet. A basic rule every slave is taught - don't stand above your master, if not told otherwise. Clever girl.

I began to eat. If it bothered her (surly she was hungry and I was eating right next to her), she didn't manifest that. She kept her head bowed and wrist crossed behind her back. Not until then I noticed she was still naked.. Do you think something is wrong with me, if I didn't notice a girl is naked? It's not. Why? Because nowdays it's rare to meet a clothed woman, naked are evrywhere.

She was trying to be a good slave. Let's have some more fun...

"Are you hungry?"

She studied my face for a while, looking for a hint for what to say. (I performed my best deadpan.) She answered very hesitantly. "Yes, Sir."

Do they punish slaves for saying true? Rather than asking that I specified: "I'm not sure, but they probably taught you to always face the floor... Did you forget that?"

Her reaction was immediate. (Looks like she didn't like the punishment yesterday..) "No, Sir. I'm sorry."

I got back to eating and finished my grits. She was startled when I offered her a slice of apple. "Eat," I said, 'cause she looked like she forgot what to do with it. When she hesitantly rised her arm to pick it, I moved back. She understood and ate it from my hand.

She was wise enough to keep her hands behind her back and say thanks. When one and half apple was gone, I took an orange. It was messy, bad idea, but it was funny - watching her fight the urge to wipe her face, 'cause she wasn't sure if she was permitted to.

She very warily and gently kissed each finger when I offered it. I _had_ to say that! "Good girl..."

I could see her shiver and little goosebumps spread on her arms. This time I was sure the shiver wasn't negative. "You like praises?" I asked and curiously ran my fingers through her hair. She _leaned_ into te touch.  _How long were you longing for some touch, tenderness, people..?_

I could see her blush when she noticed what she is doing, then she bowed her head even more and hid her face. This didn't help her to escape this situation, however.

"You are good today, aren't you? Obeying every my order, not complaining... You learn fast.." with that I caressed her hair again and watched her reaction.

She tried not to give in again, but lasted for a second only. Then she once more leaned to me, trembling slightly. I scratched her behind her ear as you would do to a dog, but she didn't mind, she enjoyed every moment of it. Maybe it was because of those two (or more?) months with slave traders.. Maybe she just needed some soft treatment.. (Or the worse 'maybe' - maybe she just broke down, let go and stopped thinking, listening to her instincts only.)

At one point I was sure she actually purred! ... Well, not _actually_ , but it sounded like a human purr would sound... It was too cute!

I rubbed her some more and then stood up and went to my bed room. She followed me three steps behind, as she was taught. This was probably one of those rare things her profile didn't lie about - she knows the rules, but followes them only when she wants to.

When she recognized the room, she stilled and unsurly looked up (and immediately down again, when she remembered herself).

"Are you scared?" I asked while I looked for the things I needed. "Are you scared of my bed room?"

"No," she answered unconvincingly. Appearent lie.

"Don't lie. Ten."

For a moment she was angry, but she calmed down. I would not waver before saying  _twenty_ , if she'd complain about the unfairess. But she only corrected herself: "Yes, Sir, I'm quite afraid of this room."

As a mercifull master I didn't ask why. I finally found the box with her clothes and took some T-shirt, underwear and the tiniest shorts she had. "You can wear this if not told otherwise."

She again said tkanks and took the offered heap.

Then I wanted to try something, and I'm sure it would be really cool, but someone above us thought "Naaah, why would I make it easy for them? Let's add a little drama!"

The door bell rang and at the same time I got a messeage on my phone: "Steve: Hey, Bill! Me and Greg came as promised! So move your lazy ass and open the door! xd"

_Shit! I thought they were kidding!_

What's the problem, you ask? Steve is my friend, he is like my adoptive brother... and he cos-plays Thor. (It appears every my friend is either a cos-player or crafts things for cos-players... Interesting discovery..) He is all right. But Greg (who cos-plays Capitan America, by the way)... I never liked him and his omnipresent sexist jokes. He quickly adapted in the new world order. He bought his wife as everybody would do... but he also bought three more girls!

Steve told me Greg requires strict 100% discipline. What if he reports me when she does something wrong? I don't want to die for rebellion because she scowled at him!

What am I supposed to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I probably belittle the difference between "because" and "'cause". It's my bad habit and I do exactly the same thing in Czech.  
> Words "protože" and "bo" means "because" and "'cause". I think they all means the same. "Bo" is a dialectal form and I use it when I feel like using dialectal forms, so I got used to using "'cause" instead of "because" when I feel like it.
> 
> I hope my Czech remarks don't bother you. :D Sometimes I'm too much patriotic.


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